Why I Do What I Do
by Dystopiac
Summary: Doctor Crane reflects on his time as Scarecrow now that he is locked up in Arkham.


**Based in the Nolan Universe. Meaning my Scarecrow looks like Cillian Murpy. Who I think is very very handsome.**

**I basically always had this story in my head since Batman Begins, and after a long time, I've decided to share it with everyone else. The Scarecrow has always been a personal favourite of mine.**

**The title "Why I Do What I Do" reflects directly from Batman Begins where Doctor Crane says this to Rachel Dawes. I just wanted to extend it why he would do his experiments. Hopefully I've kept him very in character.**

**Please read and review! I may make more similar to these.**

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Doctor Jonathan Crane sat in the plain white room, staring at the wall opposite him. He fidgeted, attempting to move against the straitjacket the nurses had put him in. Of course, he had never _meant_ to do it. He wasn't a violent man by nature, only when driven to extreme measures. And that man had really pushed his buttons. Strutting about like he owned the place just because he was well toned. What had that man said to him? Bug-eyed nerd? The nerve! Well, then Doctor Crane had to jump at him then, didn't he? It was only fair. If only he'd had his mask.

Ah, yes, the mask. Of course, the minute he put it on he wasn't Doctor Jonathan Crane anymore, was he? No, he Scarecrow, the Lord of Fear. Doctor Crane remembered what it felt like when he first put the mask on. _Powerful_. He felt Doctor Crane fade away into the back of his mind, and a new persona arise. The Scarecrow. Of course, he was still small for a man his age; still pretty scrawny looking. But they never saw that when he instilled his toxins into them. No, what they saw was their worst nightmares brought to life by The Scarecrow.

But now that he was locked up here, in the very place he used to experiment, he felt Doctor Crane come creeping back up on him. Although, he was no longer referred to as _Doctor_ Crane anymore. The nurses called him Jonathan. He didn't like that ,and responded by ignoring anyone referring to him by that name. It was _Doctor_ Crane, thank you very much.

After what had happened last year with Ra's Al Ghul his medical license was stripped from him, and he was officially a wanted criminal. He wasn't a criminal, he was better than that. On an entirely different level from them, along with The Batman. It was The Batman who brought him here. It was because of him that he was rotting away, his genius going to waste. Imagine, all the experiments that are going unpractised because he was here, instead of out there! The very shock of it.

He'd heard The Batman was being driven to the point of snapping on the outside world. By a man dressed as a clown. He didn't know the full details, but what he'd heard was enough. The Batman struggling against…a clown? See, this is what happened when they locked away the geniuses. Complete madness. Much like the patients, no _prisoners_, of Arkham Asylum. Like himself, inmate Crane. That didn't sound too good.

The Scarecrow remembered what it felt like, the very first time he used his poison on The Batman. The sheer power he had over him. It was almost too much to bear. Almost. Then, to add the icing to the cake, he set him on fire. Not, _that,_ was brilliant. Even if he did say so himself.

Doctor Crane remembers back to when he first started experimenting on his patients. It was a crudely made toxin, not nearly as powerful as his latest works before he as locked up, but it still did the job pretty well. Their screams were music to his ears. They way they clawed at their bodies, they way they cried tears of fear…how powerful he felt knowing that he was the one responsible. He was the one in control of other people. That made it all worthwhile. He couldn't stop there though, no, he had to develop his toxins further.

He became addicted to the thrill. The adrenaline rush of knowing he was breaking the rules. He would breathe in heavily, and cherish the moment. But, it still wasn't right. Not yet. He needed something else, something to finish off his preliminary stage of experimenting.

That's where the mask came in. One of his particular lab rats, a man named Parkins, was absolutely terrified of Scarecrows. Ever since he was a child, they scared him half to death. Doctor Crane thought about it for a while. A Scarecrow? He liked the sound of it. Combined with his own brand of toxins, and his new identity, he felt more powerful than ever. Then The Batman had to spoil it.

The Batman reduced him to a mere drug dealer. Making small, domestic deals with mob bosses to supply their malnourished, junkie customers. It was humiliating. But, no! That wasn't enough, was it? The Batman then had to go and spoil that too! Crashing a small meeting with a foreign mobster, the fake Batman and the real Batman. Did The Batman not see the importance of his work? If The Batman would just leave Doctor Crane and The Scarecrow alone to his research, maybe he could discover more about the human emotion of fear. Maybe, just maybe, if he worked hard enough, he could find an _anti_toxin. To erase fear.

Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. Now, stuck here, in this hellhole, he was subjected to daily torture from over pumped wife-beaters and insane murders. He didn't belong here. He knew it, the nurses knew it, everyone knew it. Doctor Crane should be out there, continuing his research, making himself feel powerful through his ability to control the human mind. Yes, how he admired the human mind. It was the most fascinating thing in life, he believed. He respected the human mind.

After all, why else would he do what he does?

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End file.
